faster as the engine powered up. Dennis saw a door open and a man and woman came out. The man was of oriental origin and was carrying a briefcase and was staring at him. Dennis quickly went to the stern and checked the mooring ropes. The man took his eyes off Dennis and the journalist relaxed.
The woman was tall, in heels and an above the knee skirt and matching jacket. She stopped as the oriental man opened the helicopter’s passenger door and moved out of her way. She got in, her skirt riding up, revealing shapely legs. Dennis could see as she sat down that she was beautiful. Her hair auburn or possibly ginger.
The oriental man followed her in and the helicopter’s engine whined as it lifted off the heli-pad and banked immediately and headed out over the dock towards the sea. Dennis watched until it disappeared from view. He heard footsteps behind him and turned. He just had time to see the word supervisor before the heavy adjustable spanner cracked into his jaw and his world went black.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When Peter Dennis came round the first thing he knew was that he’d been knocked out. He remembered the sight of the adjustable spanner inches from his face and he, unable to avoid it. His jaw hurt and felt swollen. He rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth and tasted blood. The lower left part of his jaw hurt and the pain made him wince. He pushed his tongue against several of his teeth. They had been jarred and felt loose. There was a lump bitten out of the inside of his left cheek and it stung to poke his tongue there. He felt warmth from the wound and knew that was where the blood had come from.
Over his head was a hood that surprisingly let in a lot of light, though he could see nothing at all. It felt like it was hessian, a hessian sack, and smelt strongly of coffee. It was loose over his head but tied with rope around his neck. Tight enough to keep it on but not to restrict his breathing. He moved his head quickly this way and that but was unable to dislodge the hood.
He was sitting on a chair, his arms tied behind it. He tried to move his hands but realised they were tied too tightly. The ropes cutting into his wrists. His fingers numb with pins and needles. His feet were also tied together but not to the chair and there was something else. A strange inaudible rumbling beneath his feet. He couldn’t hear but sensed and felt it. Then he felt his stomach move from within and he knew that he was still on the ship and the strange rumbling meant that the ship had set sail. His senses told him it was turning.
“I wonder if we’re out at sea,” he was thinking, “And if so how far. God I hope Hutchinson’s still on board. Did I tell De Luca what I was going to do?”
He racked his memory for what had happened before he’d been knocked out.
‘How long was I out for? Minutes? Hours? Days? The phone battery failed before I told him what I was doing’
He tried to move his shoulders, they were aching. His backside hurt as well and he squirmed to try and ease the cramp. He felt the chair move under him and he was sure it was wooden. He was able to move his legs.
‘So they’re not tied to the chair’
He tried to stand but couldn’t. He could rock the chair. It began to tip backwards and forwards and he used his leg muscles until they ached. The chair was getting higher and higher with each effort and then finally he felt it begin to tip. He quickly threw his weight the other way and the chair tilted past its zenith and then fell sending him crashing to the floor. Instinctively he craned his neck so that his head would avoid contact with the floor. He felt the chair crack when he landed and he wriggled about on the floor and though he was still tied to the chair he had more freedom of movement with his arms. The ropes were still cutting into his wrists but he now found he could move his hands apart. He struggled against his bonds. Then suddenly he felt himself free of the chair. Now he was able to roll onto his back and roll